


Dress the Dummy as Needed

by LeDiz



Category: Final Fantasy IX
Genre: Building Relationship, F/M, Unfinished, actors being actors, the whole crew really, zidane is a thief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-15 10:16:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8052484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeDiz/pseuds/LeDiz
Summary: For everything else he was, Zidane would always be an actor, taking up a different role when needed. It took Dagger a long time to recognise when she was on a stage too.





	Dress the Dummy as Needed

He was so many things, from acrobat to wildchild, and she’d caught glimpses of them all over the last few months. Some of them didn’t seem to fit together. She realised, in an awkward, ‘that was obvious’ moment that it was because a lot of them weren’t real. They were roles. Parts he played on a stage that followed him around.

But he was very good at them all. So she believed each of them, sometimes.

Garnet would never, ever admit it, but honestly, each and every one of them had played out in her dreams.

Dagger, after all, was allowed to want things.

 

* * *

 

The actor often seemed his only true self. She sometimes wondered if there was anything to him, behind the roles he picked and chose.

“But lo, what lass doth heaven send?” he asked, spinning around the fire to swoop down beside Freya. She ignored his presence, even as he snatched her hand from where it had been resting over her knee and clasped it between both of his own. “Tis not the golden bride I dreamed, nor the diamond rough I thought to see. Tis but a rat, a mouse, a hopeless thing. To what purpose would this marriage bring?”

Finally, Freya lifted her hand and slowly turned to face him. “There is something wrong with your head. I think it needs removing.”

He grinned broadly, before his eyes shifted to Amarant, leaning against a tree just outside the campfire light. He immediately dropped Freya’s hand and leapt up to stand between them, arms outstretched as if to present Amarant to his audience. “Hark me well, all ye here now, there is no greater truth I’ll vow. In faith, in strength, in friendship fold, honour is grace truth told.”

Amarant tilted his head just enough to look at him, but said nothing. If he understood the theatrical ramblings, he didn’t show it. Zidane kept staring at him for a few seconds, even rolling his wrists as if hoping for a responding line, but eventually sighed and dragged himself away to look around at the others.

Everyone but Vivi and Eiko was doing their level best to pretend they were ignoring him, but Steiner still jolted upright when Zidane’s eyes settled on him.

“Soldier! Thou wilt stand, sir, and meet mine blade in honest combat!” he cried, and leapt sideways to stand over Vivi’s shoulder, one arm raised to hold his hand against his shoulder, the other extended in a two-fingered point at the guardsman. “For thou seem a true and valiant knight and I would know thy mettle as all worthy men do.”

“You mock me, sir!” Steiner shouted, leaping to his feet, and for a moment it looked like all Zidane’s dreams had come true before he pin-wheeled his arms, slapping both hands against his chest.

“Mock? I would not, dear sir, I have only the finest respect. Indeed, had I greater skill with finer arts—” He paused, deliberately turning his head to wink at Dagger and Eiko. “—and the tools to match—” He went back to Steiner as if he hadn’t paused. “—sir I would show thee how much respect I had, in settings more suited to such pursuits.”

“Zidane, what are you doing?” Freya asked blandly, before Steiner could catch the entendre that had Amarant shifting his head to stare at Zidane’s back.

He dropped character just long enough to look at her, laughing softly, before moving his attention down to Eiko. The little girl grinned, bouncing expectantly, especially when he dropped to his knees in front of her, hands folded over his chest.

“Were there sweets enough, and a room large enough, my lady, I would bring thee candy to match the honey in thine smile. If only time were not fleeting, and life not so short, I would craft thee flower crowns of beauty to match thine heart. But things are what they are, and thou art destined to break hearts not mine,” he said, and carefully reached out to take her hand in his own. He bent his head to press his forehead against her fingers, and then looked up again, smiling very slightly at the spellbound look in her eyes. “In summers to come, and winters to fall, thou shalt know love like none other. I shall dream of those days, and thou should know the wonders I could never give to match them.”

Sitting beside her, Dagger could only stare at the private scene, wondering what play it was from, and if she’d ever get the chance to see it. A smaller, more private part wondered if the one he planned for her could match it, but he only glanced at her for a single short moment before flinging himself up and away to slam himself into the dirt beside Vivi.

He wrapped an arm around the startled black mage, and lifted his other hand as if holding a cup. “And onward ho we travel, two men against the world! To shining sea and withered wood, our pirate flag unfurled! Against foul beast and fairer maid, we’ll fight and woo and then! When dinner bells are rung at last, we’ll hurry home again.” He tightened his grip on Vivi in something that almost looked like a one-armed hug, before immediately letting him go to brace both hands against the dirt behind him. He leaned back, laughing to himself and staring at the skies.

“You are very strange,” Amarant noted, and Zidane only laughed a little louder for a moment, before letting himself drop back properly.

They all stared at him, as he lay there and watched the stars, but it seemed the show was over. He only paused a few moments before stretching his arms up over his head with a loud, obnoxious yawn. “Mmm… I’m gonna go find Quina,” he said, and tumbled to his feet in one sleek movement before heading off into the darkness without another word.

Dagger pressed her hands together, and tried not to be disappointed.

 

* * *

 

The big brother was an understated role, one he barely seemed aware of as he gave Vivi the unwavering support and guidance he needed. It wasn’t unusual to see them sitting alone together, or to walk in on Zidane giving Vivi a pep-talk, or to catch Zidane trying to teach Vivi bad habits.

Dagger loved watching them together. In a strange way, she even liked that sometimes Zidane would completely ignore her to instead focus on Vivi.

With Eiko, it was different, but somehow also the same. Maybe because she was so obvious in her little crush, which Zidane was apparently doing his best to remain unaware of. Dagger… tried to see it the same way she did with Vivi. Tried to take note of how Zidane was always patient and kind, humouring Eiko’s demands with the amused exasperation she remembered from some of the palace guards when she’d been a child.

She was a little ashamed of how often she found herself annoyed by it instead.

But she did kind of like the apologetic glances he’d send her, as Eiko pulled him off in another direction. She liked the way he explained things to the little girl. She liked seeing how differently he treated the two of them.

 He collapsed on the bench beside her, looking utterly exhausted as Eiko dragged Vivi off to gather dinner supplies.

“I know she grew up with moogles, and has to make up for lost time,” he said to no one in particular, “but the talking. There’s so much talking.”

Dagger pressed a hand to her mouth, but couldn’t help her quiet giggles. Zidane tilted his head toward her, smirking but obviously too worn out to flirt properly. “What?”

She didn’t mention his running mouth, just smiled back. “You’re a good guy, Zidane.”

“Oh, you have no idea how _good_ I can be,” he said, and laughed when she shoved him away by the face.

 

* * *

 

The cat burglar was… somehow both figurative and literal.

Of course he was a thief, specialising in grand heists. And when he needed to, he could slink and slide through places that only a cat could go. He fit the role well.

But… while his tail was definitely not a cat’s tail – he could use it to hold and grab and hang… he himself had very… feline qualities sometimes. His smirks, his style. How he would laze in the sun, or his tail would curl up around him. But the tail was the only actual animal trait he had. At least, as far as she knew. Aside from his teeth, which were a little too sharp looking.

It was just in the way he moved. Silent, slippery, slinking. Smooth.

Sometimes, she found herself watching him, in the most mundane moments, and found herself thinking about the way he moved. Not even in a dirty way! Mostly. Though she had to admit it was often weird.

She wondered how he hugged. Did he curl around them? She dreamed, sometimes, of his forehead bumping against hers. His nose sliding over her cheeks. She kind of wanted to… to have him rest his head in her lap. To run her fingers through his hair as he slept.

She wondered, sometimes, if he would purr.

 

* * *

 

It was easy to forget that Zidane was dangerous.

They all were, of course – spells and blades, fists and summons… they were all killers and more than capable of defending themselves.

But Zidane was dangerous in other ways, too. Ways that were easy to forget.

He was smiling in an odd way as he leaned back against the table, cup loosely held by the fingertips of one hand, eyes half-lidded as they traced the room. They lingered in strange places – a coat, a wig, a pair of shoes.

“Zidane?” Dagger asked curiously, and he looked at her, lifting his cup to drink.

“Yeah?”

“Are you alright? You seem…” He had lost the odd look, nothing but his usual charming self, and it made her frown all the more. “…distracted.”

“Only by your charms, m’lady,” he said, and then turned his eyes back to the crowd. “There are some interesting people here, don’t you think?”

She couldn’t say she did. The village they were staying in was a little more… lively than most, with a wider gap between the rich and the poor. But the people themselves weren’t that different from your average city-dweller.

“I’m going to mingle,” he said suddenly, and threw back the last of his drink in one hit before slamming the cup down on the table. He hoisted himself up off the bench, then tossed Eiko his coin purse. “Don’t let Rusty drink himself under the table.”

As Steiner spluttered his objections, Freya frowned deeply. “Zidane…”

“Don’t wait up!” he said cheerfully, and waltzed off toward the bar.

Dagger didn’t mean to wait up for him. She really didn’t. But she couldn’t sleep, instead finding herself thinking over that strange look he’d had, and the way he’d so easily slipped into the group at the bar, like he was an old friend of everyone. Something about it had unsettled her.

The door opened almost soundlessly, and it was only the shifting of Freya’s sheets as the knight sat up that told Dagger anyone had entered.

“There you are,” Freya whispered furiously. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

The chuckle that answered was quiet but familiar, and she opened her eyes to peek over the blanket. Zidane was just a silhouette in the moonlight, smelling of alcohol and… blood. She resisted the urge to sit up and check to see if he was alright.

“What did you think you were doing? We don’t have time to get caught up in anything here,” Freya continued, and Zidane laughed again.

“We don’t, andwe won’t,” he promised quietly. “Go to sleep, Freya. Everything’s fine.”

He got up earlier than anyone too. Went downstairs. By the time the rest of them were ready to leave, they found him in the middle of a crowd again. Dagger was slightly annoyed to see a girl draped around his shoulders, but she refused to ask herself why, and besides – breakfast was ready for them, already paid for. She didn’t think it would be right to seem angry at such a thoughtful gesture.

It wasn’t until they were halfway out of town, and Eiko returned Zidane’s coin purse, that any of them wondered how he’d paid for it.

 “Oh. That,” he said, and grinned. “Don’t worry about it. The guys at the inn offered it up free of charge.”

“What? Why?”

He shrugged. “Guess they were feeling generous.”

It took hours of walking, Freya slapping him around the head, Steiner not being in hearing distance, and a promise not to tell Dagger (she found out from Vivi later) before he admitted he’d scammed them. Stolen some guy’s purse and then started buying drinks for people. Smiled, flirted, played cards just badly enough to be pathetic but good. He even got into a fight with a guy that had been harassing the bar maid. Then, he panicked – said his purse had disappeared from his belt. By that point, the crowd loved him, and bought him more drinks. And, in the morning, he was so determined to go out and earn enough money for breakfast—he couldn’t let his friends know he’d lost all their money—that the tavern owners shouted him breakfast. He’d paid for the rooms up front, after all, and been such a good guy. Call it a good deed, right?

 

* * *

 

“You’ve known Zidane a long time, haven’t you?”

Freya snorted, not even bothering to raise her head from the washing. “Longer than I’d wish.”

“Has he always been…” Dagger pressed her hands together, but didn’t have time to find the right words before Freya offered them up.

“Lecherous? Reckless? Foolish? Arrogant?”

She winced. “A thief?”

“Oh. Yes,” Freya said bluntly. “But you surely didn’t expect anything less when you asked him to kidnap you.”

She opened her mouth, then sighed and crouched down beside her. Freya glanced at her from under her hat, lips curling slightly. “What, you thought he only stole from people trying to kill him? Tantalus is not an acting troupe.”

“But he’s always seemed like such a good person!” she burst out, then pressed her hands to her mouth as if that could hide them. She paused, refusing to acknowledge Freya’s knowing smile, then sighed again. “Why would he do it? We had plenty of gil. They hadn’t done anything wrong.”

“No one has _never_ done anything wrong, princess,” she said gently. “And was it truly so horrible? No one visits an inn with their life savings. No inn would give up food they couldn’t spare. And they enjoyed his company. I’d imagine most of them were perfectly willing to give what he took.”

“Under false pretences!” she insisted. “He lied to them!”

 “I can’t excuse his behaviour, if that’s what you’re hoping for,” replied Freya. “Zidane is a thief. And not an honourable man. I don’t believe he’s ever claimed to be one.”

It took a great deal of self control to not shout that he’d implied he was. That he’d made her believe he was a good person. That… that he’d lied to her.

But he hadn’t. Freya was right. He’d been open and honest from the start, about his work, his background, his life. He was a thief and a scoundrel, and she was the fool for forgetting it.

She left Freya to the washing, and started back toward the camp proper. A flash of colour caught her eye as she went, and she jumped to see Zidane himself standing behind a tree. He’d obviously been listening.

She could feel the blood rush to her cheeks and ears, and for a moment, neither of them moved. They just looked at each other quietly, her horrified and him smirking.

In the end, Zidane broke the gaze first, his eyes dropping to the ground. His smile widened for a brief moment, before he silently pushed off the tree and walked away, not even saying a word.

 

* * *

 

A part he played on rare occasions was the exotic wonder.

With his blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, human features but monkey tail, curves that no man should have been able to lay claim to, Zidane was in many ways unique. Add to that his natural beauty and learned eye for costumes, and he could be truly stunning when the mood took him.

Or, years later, when he had no choice.

“What a handsome young man you caught,” Duchess DuPuis said to her over coffee one day. “I must say, I was surprised as anyone else to hear you married a commoner, but to look at him, I completely understand!”

She’d laughed daintily, not sure what the correct response would be, and so quickly changed the subject.

A week later, a rather drunk Marquis Carnie leaned over the table with a lecherous grin. “A thing like that, bet he gets nice and wild when it counts, eh?”

She’d been horrified, and excused herself to speak to other guests.

“Oh, those stories you hear, so ridiculous,” she overheard a pair of gossiping princesses, in the gardens of an important charity ball. “How much do you think they paid the real hero so they could make the queen’s boytoy into something respectable?”

Zidane, still dressed in his finery, found her crying furious tears on the balcony of their guest quarters. He listened to her rant about stupid girls and horrible rumours for all of five minutes before silently unbuckling his cloak. At first, she just thought he was just taking it off to wrap around her shoulders, and so continued on, but stopped when he tossed it over the railing. And then stared as he took off his gloves. Then his vest. And boots. Shirt. She grabbed his hands as they reached for his trousers.

He grinned. “Want to do that one for me, huh?”

“What are you doing?” she demanded, and he shoved his way forward to kiss her deeply. She was still silly and upset, so she let him have his way for a few seconds before pulling back. “Zidane?”

“Dagger,” he replied, and smoothly swung himself around to kneel in front of her. “Sarah.”

She blushed. No one ever used her real name. “W- wha -?”

“You are not Princess Garnet Til Alexandros the sixteenth,” he reminded her. “You just pretend to be. And you know it doesn’t matter to me, or to the royal guard, or anyone who knows. But it matters to those idiots down there, so that’s who you are. And I am a –” He stopped, blinked twice, then grinned. “Well. What I am doesn’t matter, but it would to them. Wouldn’t it?”

“You’re a hero,” she said, and he shrugged.

“Heroes last until the next story comes along. But a prince? Egh, they need to be a bit more shallow. With no lines, no backstory, the same character can be used in any show, for as long as they’re needed,” he said, and pushed up enough to kiss her again. “Dress the dummy in whatever clothes you need to play the part.”

“I don’t –” she managed, before he kissed her again.

“I don’t care,” he said, and ducked his head to kiss her neck, “what anyone thinks I am. Anyone but you.” His teeth, just that little bit too sharp, scraped against that sweet spot he’d found. “So if it means that I can be with you—” They both derailed from the conversation as he leaned around to that secret place, where her hair hid but her nerves caught fire. But eventually he pulled back to meet her gaze. “—I will be the prettiest, most shallow piece of wood you will ever see, all the better to display the finest jewels. Dress the dummy as you need.”

She laughed, grabbing his face by both hands, and dragged him back up to her lips. “Or undress, as required?”

“Well, that _is_ preferable,” he mumbled into her mouth.

 ...

**Author's Note:**

> The 48 are a collection of unfinished and/or pointless fics saved to my hard drive, now posted to Ao3 for people's interest or in case they want to adopt them.
> 
> I struggle to have the patience for Final Fantasy games (grinding is not my thing), but I really enjoyed the story and characters of 9. Zidane intrigues me, because we get hints of this darkness and nastiness, but he's ultimately an extremely good guy. I think he played roles very well. Which fit, because so did Dagger, in the end. I wrote a couple of fics trying to figure them out. This probably got the furthest along.


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